A Pajama Thanksgiving

Lately, I've heard some people pine for a Pajama Thanksgiving, one where street clothes and obligatory visits to in-laws and relatives are not required. I have a long history of untraditional Thanksgivings, though I've never spent Thanksgiving Day in my pajamas.

I have no memory of a single Thanksgiving with both of my parents in attendance. But I do vaguely remember shuttling from household to household in the post-divorce era. I also remember one particularly horrific Thanksgiving Day spent at my stepmother's sister's home. The sister had a three or four-year old son who spoke with careful, slow earnestness. This boy was a nasally, preternaturally curious, annoying kid with a penchant for big words. I was a self-conscious teenager, which is why I wished for death when he said to me (in front of God and everybody) in his loud voice, "WHY DO YOU HAVE SUCH LARGE *BREASTS?" (Okay. Maybe that's too much information, but I'm telling you, I was mortified.)

In college, once I went to Wichita, Kansas, for Thanksgiving with a friend. Her parents were out of town and the heat was off in the house. She didn't know how to get the furnace to kick on--it must have been malfunctioning--and we couldn't get a fire lighted. We froze. We ate dinner at her friends' home. I have no idea who they were. Our return trip to Springfield, Missouri, was a nightmare. What should have taken five hours took ten because the roads were covered with a shiny layer of slick ice. I thought for sure we would die.

When our twins were three and we lived far from family, we went to a buffet restaurant for Thanksgiving. I remember that day with fondness. All the wonder of a big feast with no dishes to do! And the boys ate like birds in those days and their meals were free. What's not to love?

Usually, though, I cook. I like the smell of turkey cooking. I like leftovers. I like to relax in my own home with my own family. We don't stay in our pajamas, but our attitude is pajama-like. Sit down, relax, we aren't trying to impress anyone. We have nowhere to go, nothing to do but eat and digest.

And for you skeptics, that's okay if you don't want a helping of my stuffing with sliced green olives and raisins. That just means there's more for me.

Happy Thanksgiving!